


Comeback

by Macx



Series: Denuo [51]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>episode tag to Iced. Conrad Ecklie is back in the field for one case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comeback

 

 

 _< "You're still qualified to process a scene.">_

Famous last words.

Qualified.

Uh-huh.

On paper maybe. Reality had been a bitch.

It had been a bad day for Conrad Ecklie.

A very bad day.

Not that being back in the field had been bad. He had actually enjoyed that very much. Ecklie hadn't been aware of how much he truly missed being there, outside, collecting evidence, though the work he did now was more up his alley than anything had ever been.

His instincts as a criminalist had not always been right, mainly due to his political ambitions. Had he been more sensitive to the plight of the victims, of the survivors, many mistakes would never have been made.

But he had been rather narrow-minded and working toward a single goal.

That had changed.

A lot had changed.

He had worked investigations from his desk, had read case files and reports, and the old criminalist, the idealistic young man who had come to work for the police department so many years ago, had come out and delighted in the chase – even if it was over by the time the case files got to him.

Yes, Ecklie missed the chasing of clues, of tracking down evidence, of waiting for an analysis to be complete to see where it led him. Yes, he missed being a simple CSI. And no, he wouldn't go back. As much as the criminalist in him, the Conrad Ecklie only a few people knew, wanted to be out in the field and help, the other part of him, the paranormal and ally and shaman, this one was needed here, behind a desk, running interference and keeping his people safe.

Well, he was one of the people he had to protect. Ecklie still refused to step away from ally business altogether just because he had become a shaman. That had been an accident; the other was something he had to do.

"No one's available. Except you."

He could still curse Vartann for his innocent look, the curious tilt of the detective's head, the unspoken plea.

Conrad hadn't been able to say no. For so many reasons. The thrill to go out, the need of a shaman to help, the duty of the AD to keep the lab running, even if it meant he had to be there in person and do his people's work. Things had been so packed, with all teams out and about, Grissom in court, there had been no other choice.

So, he had gone back into the field. A simple 419 at the Tangier. James Billmeyer from New Jersey, found dead next to his car.

Ecklie sighed and sipped at his beer. It was the second one this evening and he felt like he needed something stronger soon. Not that it was a good idea for a shaman to get drunk, but right now he couldn't care less.

In the beginning the case had been a lot of fun. Out at the crime scene, like with the Eiger case, but that had been look-don't-touch back then. He had been within the confines of the yellow tape this time. He had felt the thrill, the excitement, and he had to smile at that.

Yes, Ecklie mused, it had been good. It had felt right. Like stretching his legs after sitting down for too long.

But then things had turned worse.

It had been humiliating to lose a body. To have it snatched out under his nose in the morgue. Sure, he wasn't responsible for it in the first place, but one measly case in his new life as an Assistant Director and that had to happen.

Great.

Fucking great.

He emptied the beer and waved at the waitress to bring him another.

At least the case had been solved, even if it had been one weird solution to the whole trouble. It could all have been so easy, the victim dying of a heart condition and all, but no, his best buddy from high school had to go and throw the dead man a party – with the corpse present.

Ecklie shook his head. This was Vegas. The weirdness never ended. It just got even weirder.

A slight headache crept up his neck and it already settled behind his eyes. He rubbed them in the fruitless attempt to ease the pressure. His shoulders were a tight mass of muscles that refused to loosen.

Maybe it all wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the shamanic powers that had gone slightly haywire throughout the investigation.

 _< "Get out… get out! Out!!">_

Damn, he had really lost it with David Philipps. Ecklie knew what had happened, and there was no excuse for it. He had lost control of the shields he was always working on with Nandi, the shields that kept him from seeing everything a shaman could, like spirit animals, auras and such things. After losing the body, after talking to Doc Robbins, he had truly lost it around David. The man had done nothing wrong, he knew that, but the spikes had wreaked havoc with Ecklie's mind.

Now, hours later, with the case solved and everything where it should be, the shields were firmly back in place. At least that particular headache wouldn't return, though the echoes were bad enough.

"Is this seat taken?"

He looked up and resignation fluttered through him.

Of all the people…

 _< "I think I remember how to do my job, Gil, thanks.">_

"No," he answered.

Gil Grissom slid into the second seat and placed his own beer on the table. "Not bad for your first case back in the field," he simply said and Ecklie had no clue at the moment whether he meant it or not. It could be one of those hidden needling remarks he liked to place now and then. The sweet words with barbs underneath.

Closing his eyes, gritting his teeth against a vicious pulse of almost-migraine, he refused to meet Grissom's clear blue eyes.

"Why don't you cut the crap and tell the truth, Gil? I sucked. I lost a body, I snapped at people, the lab techs keep sucking up to me, even Hodges… and I find my body sitting outside on a bench, wearing a party hat, smoking a cigar and with his lungs full of beer."

Grissom nursed his drink, looking thoughtful. "I had weirder cases, Conrad. So have you. I think you're too sensitive."

"I'm a shaman, Grissom. We are sensitive by nature!" Dark eyes flared and he glared at the other man.

A smile was his answer. "You think it was your paranormal side that was the problem?"

Ecklie rubbed his forehead. "I don't know. Yes. Maybe. Part of it. Vartann broadsided me with his request to be the CSI on this case. I could hardly say no. I haven't kept up my kit for obvious reasons ever since taking over the lab. I was late. I had a bad day. And then the body was gone. Thin air. Poof." He sighed. "And to top it all, my shields failed and I took it out on David. It was my worst case."

"I can remember a few that were worse."

Ecklie's eyes narrowed.

Grissom's face took on that damned angelic countenance. "You didn't look all too deeply into the case of Frank Damon, remember?"

Oh yeah, that one. Another political victim. Grissom had actually solved the case and kept the man from being sentenced for an accident that Ecklie had seen as a murder.

"I remember," he gritted.

"Getting drunk won't change anything, Conrad."

"I know."

"How many beers already?"

"It's my third," he answered, slightly unnerved. "I don't need a nanny, Grissom. Go home to Nick."

"Actually Nick's outside in the car, waiting. Want a ride home?"

Grissom's voice was so calm, so reasonable, Ecklie wanted to smack him for it. Why couldn't he just wallow in misery on his own?

And that damned flaming bird was sitting on the back of Grissom's chair, watching him with those deep, black eyes.

Shit, his shields were wavering again. It might be the alcohol, it might be his exhaustion, it might be that he felt completely under the weather and wanted nothing more than to curl up and die.

Seeing a phoenix wasn't helping. At least his own spirit animal was keeping a low profile. Those little black button eyes cold be rather accusing sometimes.

Yes, being a shaman was too surreal sometimes. Especially when it involved seeing spirit animals of colleagues. It turned to be really bad when he was the sole witness to Grissom's phoenix snuggling up to Nick's raven.

"I have a beer to finish," he said stubbornly instead.

"I'll wait."

"Gil…" Ecklie put a warning tone into his voice.

"Conrad, it was a normal case.  A bit out of the ordinary, but normal. Bodies get snatched."

"How many have you lost so far?"

"Truthfully? Two. One disappeared on the way when a driver was bribed and delivered it to some disturbed young man with a fetish for the dead. The other was prematurely released without my knowledge and before I was done processing it. I had to remove it from the funeral home a day before the funeral."

Ecklie rubbed a thumb over the lukewarm glass. Grissom tilted his head.

"As for people sucking up to you… you can ignore Hodges. He has a role to play and he does it well. He's an ally and if he suddenly behaved as if you were the most normal person in the lab, people would ask questions. The others… get used to it, Conrad. You are our boss. It's normal." Grissom smiled a fine smile. "I never thought you to be the one to complain about that kind of behaviour."

He gave the other man a dark look. "Oh, shut up."

Truth was, he was both flattered and annoyed. He liked to be in charge; he finally was where he had wanted to be all the time. But having half the lab grovel at his feet and the other half hating his guts… it was a hard deal to work. He had friends, real friends, and while neither Nick nor Grissom showed it openly, their working relationship had eased up. And having them over or meeting for dinner or drinks was relaxing.

Gil shrugged and emptied his beer. "Shall we?"

Ecklie sighed deeply. There was no saying no to a Grissom on a mission, be it as a colleague or a friend.

He left the rest of the beer on the table as he rose and followed Grissom to the outside. The air was warm, but not too humid, and the bright lights of Las Vegas lit up the night like it was day.

Nick's Tahoe was just around the corner and Stokes smiled at him as Ecklie slid into the back seat. It was one of those open, true smiles. Nothing false, nothing hidden.  
Ecklie leaned his head against the headrest.

"Home?" Nick asked.

He closed his eyes. "Yes."

The Tahoe pulled away from the curb and slid into traffic. Ecklie was silent, eyes on the movements outside, lost in thought.

*

He was delivered right to his doorstep and when he got out, Grissom stopped him for a moment.

"Get some sleep, Conrad. You did okay. Everything's fine. Sleep, get some rest, let Franklin treat you to something, and we'll see you tomorrow, hm?"

Since when did people he worked with, who were actually his subordinates, give him pep-talk? Well, this was Grissom and the man was everything but his subordinate.  
He was his friend.

Ecklie sighed. "Yes. Thanks, Gil. Nick."

The younger CSI smiled brightly at him, his aura radiating a healthy color, and Ecklie took strength from that. Grissom was simply calm, controlled, and Ecklie wondered if the two men knew how harmonious they came across to a shaman or someone else able to see auras, like magic-users. It was actually balm on his soul.

"Good night," he only said.

Grissom smiled and got back into the car, which then drove off. Ecklie exhaled slowly, then walked into his home. He as greeted by a cream colored tabby that meowed a welcome.

"Hey, Cleo." He leaned down and scratched his familiar. "Still alone?"

Another meow was his answer.

Franklin wasn't home yet due to a meeting he had told Conrad about, and Ecklie just stripped and climbed into the shower.

The hot water would help him relax his muscles.  
   
 

Cleo settled on the bed and waited for her human to reappear out of the bathroom.

* * *

Franklin returned home late from a meeting that he could have done without. As the personnel manager he had to be there, especially for the annual figures and such, but due to stupid and rather senseless discussions, things had gone on and on and on. Now he was finally here, tired, in dire need of something to drink, and a nice evening on the couch with his lover.

Walking into their shared home, he became aware of two things: Conrad was home and he was in his office. The door was closed and sensitive vampire ears picked up the music.

Uh-huh…

It was enough for Franklin to head into the kitchen first. He got himself a shake, feeling a lot better after the blood did its magic. The closed doors and music were a sign that his partner needed his half hour or hour alone. It meant a stressful day, a low energy level, and the need to rejuvenate. It was something that worked quite well for them, knowing what outward signs meant the other needed a bit of distance before engaging in social life again, even if it was only the other partner they were together afterwards.

There was a soft purr and he turned, smiling at Conrad's familiar. Cleo had jumped onto the kitchen counter and now butted her head against his arm.

"Hello, little one."

Scratching her, Cleo's purr deepening, Franklin emptied his shake.

"Well, we'll let him be for now. I guess you already know that."

Large, yellow eyes told him Cleo did.

Franklin decided on a change of clothes, glad to get rid of the restricting suit, and he slipped into a pair of leisurely pants and a t-shirt, leaving his feet bare. Opening the door to the terrace that led into a wilderness desert garden, he settled down on the lawn chair and enjoyed the early evening. The sun was still out, but it wasn't hitting their home directly, so the vampire was fairly safe. Night would fall quickly and then he had nothing to worry about anyway.

It was a good hour into his night watch that he heard the music stop and the door to Conrad's office open. Unlike many believed, Conrad Ecklie was not a classic fan. He rarely listened to any of it, if at all. Franklin had been a bit surprised to discover that he liked singers like Sarah McLachlan. Not that he was a pop or folk fan either, but he liked the style, he had once said.

Picking up soft steps, Franklin stretched his senses and smiled a little as his life-partner joined him out on the terrace.

"Hey," he greeted the shaman softly.

Dark eyes met his and he was given a smile. It contained a lot of thing, a lot of emotions, and Franklin didn't have to have supernatural senses to still see and feel the bad day on his lover.

"That bad?" he asked softly.

Ecklie settled down on the second chair. "It was. Not any more. I just needed a bit of time to think about it."

Franklin sat up, swinging his legs over to place his feet firmly on the terracotta tiles. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Your case?"

A soft laugh, but without a lot of humor. "Yes, my case."

"Over?"

"Yes. We found the body again, it was processed, we got the men behind it all. It was laughable in the end, but a felony nonetheless. Class D."

Franklin had a good repertoire of police and criminalistic terms down pat. Came from living with a CSI.

"Case solved."

Conrad chuckled. "Yes. And I feel like the greatest ass for letting myself go like I did."

"Everyone has bad days."

"Well, I thought I was past such petty reactions," the shaman muttered angrily. "I behaved like everyone thought I would. They either cower down and run away with their tails between their legs, or they suck up to me!"

Franklin's eyes crinkled with the smile he had on his lips. "Except two or three, I presume."

"Hodges was playing his role, Franklin. It was bad enough."

Franklin rose and walked the two steps over to his lover's lawn chair, running a gentle hand over the way too tense shoulders. He squeezed one, kneading it.

"Geez, Conrad, you're like a board."

A sigh escaped the other man's lips. "It happens. I just need to relax a little and I'll be okay."

"Want me to help?"

Dark eyes sparked with amusement. "I wasn't thinking about that."

"Neither was I," Franklin breathed against one ear as he continued his light massage. "I just want to help. Let me?"

And he did. In their shared bed, on his belly, naked, and Franklin straddling him as expert finger dug into the recalcitrant muscles. Ecklie related his case to Franklin in detail, interrupted by groans when a particular spot was hit that sent out a pleasure-pain signal.

Franklin had to hold onto himself at the recap of the witness interview.

"You told her you were divorced? I never knew you were married, Conrad."

Ecklie sighed into the pillow. "I wasn't."

The vampire's eyes sparkled. "You lied?"

"What should I have told her? My life-partner is a vampire?!"

Franklin tilted his head as if in thought as he attacked a knot on the right shoulder. "Why not?"

Conrad muttered a, "Right!"

"Well, you could have told her you're in a relationship."

"With a vampire?"

"Nope, just leave out the vampire bit."

"Vartann's ears were growing already when I said I was divorced, okay? Having him know I'm seeing someone, I know the whole precinct would be trying to sniff out who it is."

Franklin rolled his eyes. "As if they didn't know about it already, Conrad. It's not like I haven't been there. And the nice young lady at reception gives me those knowing smiles."

"Judy?" he stuttered.

"Yes, Judy. Nice girl. We had a long talk one day and she told me to take extra care of you."

"She did not!" Conrad exclaimed and rolled onto his back, dislodging his vampire.

Gray eyes sparkled with laughter. "Take it easy, love. She knows. She never told me, but she does. It's easy to see if you want to. I guess a few more know, too."

Ecklie sat up and ran a hand over his head in a gesture of frustration. "Great!"

Franklin scooted up to him, then pushed the other man back into the mattress. "Yes, it's great. Because they know you're only human, so to speak, too. They know you have a love-life, that you have a life, Conrad."

His life-partner sighed explosively and pulled him down to lie on him. Franklin had no objections.

"Sometimes it's hard to be human," Ecklie murmured and Franklin heard the humor in the words.

"Tell me about it."

Conrad chuckled. "You're a vampire."

"Yep. My point exactly."

A kiss was placed against one temple. "Thanks, Franklin."

He snuggled into the loving embrace. "You're welcome. Feel better?"

"Hm-mh."

That sounded sleepy enough and Franklin ran a caress along the warm, naked side, feeling Conrad slip deeper into a doze.

"But it was fun," Ecklie murmured after a while.

The vampire chuckled. "I bet," he whispered.

And Conrad would do it again if called upon.

Franklin didn't need to sleep as much as his human partner, but he allowed himself to doze off nevertheless, though it didn't last as long as Conrad's sleep.

The rest of the night he spent watching his lover and reading the novel he had started a while ago.


End file.
